


Whispered words against Linen sheets

by orphan_account



Series: The Two Crowns : B Side [16]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - A Song of Ice and Fire, Consensual prostitution, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-04-10 04:09:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4376705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the Whisperer and his King did not know that the greatest weapon was not a sword, not the paper torn the day of the King’s will, but the boy they sent East years ago. And what lies between his legs.<br/>Not even the Lord Commander stood a chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The Story of Akira and Mizoguchi in asoiaf au.

It was easy to forget the calloused hands on his skin, the breathy moans he could feel against his neck. It was even easier to follow the force that spread his legs far too easily, to arch up with practiced ease into the dry lips that kissed, caressed his body.  
Akira knew how to do it, to please and enthrall until men and women fell to his charm, and he had easily wormed his way into the Lord Commander’s bed. He figured he was not a bad lover nor a bad man, oiled fingers against his skin and praised between his lips, but Akira never heard any of it.  
He’d rather hear other moans, a younger voice and softer hands around his hips, and praises he knew his friend meant. Not the ones that came with spent money or threats, the one they all expected him to like and move for.

So he closed his eyes, embraced the shadows that engulfed him and Akira breathed out, moving his hips against Mizoguchi’s, smiling at every grunt and moan like it was exactly what he came for, like his mind was not driven by the thought of another man. Of what he thought was love, even between miles of land South, even through the darkness that spread within and around him. And he did not move back from the hand against his sex, from the rougher thrusts between his legs and the way he felt teeth against his neck.

The Lord Commander was not a bad man, but Akira dreamt of another one still. But everything his thrived for, came after. Came between linen sheets and breathless laugh he could not share but with a coy smile, like the women he knew at far East did with her clients, with the naive ones before striking.  
Between these linen sheets and against the older man’s chest, Akira heard.

Hushed tones about secrets no one knew, about the closed Council up in the Hand’s Tower, words Akira heard and remembered with a smile that never reached his eyes, the shadows whirling around in the room at Akira’s will, at his joy to hear the man talk.

Words about the banished Prince that made Akira shiver not by cold, words about his friend that made him rise with a smile to kiss at the man’s chest to make him talk. Talk, and talk again, secrets and things no one, not even the little birds of the Master knew and Akira was all ears for it.

He did not mind the silver coin the Lord Commander threw at him as he fled into the depths of the castle, he did not mind his rash call to come back next night and the way his hand grabbed his hip too tightly.

As he went down the stony halls, the shadows seemed to dance around him. He could make him fall, he could make him pay.  
And Akira had whispered words to write down for the South, for his friends to hear and read.

Even the King himself, even his Whisperer did not know what could be held between his legs.


	2. Chapter 2

He had felt him arrive long before the muffled steps were heard against tiled floor. A tall, meant to be silent, shadow that only Akira could have felt. Lurking in the light and he had shivered, strengthening himself to what was to come, to what he had willingly put himself under.  
He had felt him arrive long before he felt hot breath against his skin; chapped and dry lips against his ear and lewd propositions meant to arouse for him only to hear.

Akira had only willed the shadows away, willed the tendrils of darkness away from his mind and his fingertips as he shivered at the words, trembling willingly between the arms of the Lord Commander. Praises whispered as a hand led him astray, away in a dark alcove hidden to everyone yet Akira swore he could feel the Gods’ eyes on him, on them, and a vicious smile graced his lips before he turned towards the older man.

“Good boy” he heard him say, too loud in the empty room and Akira looked away easily.

Pretending became easier each time. He could pretend not to see the Stranger loom over him as it did the first time Mizoguchi laid with him, rough against his skin. He could pretend to like the fingers against his skin, disrobing him until the man could take what he wanted. He could pretend to be someone else, something else, to please the fantasies of a man he swore to destroy long ago.

So Akira moaned, whimpered at each kisses, at each mark he laid on his pale skin, appreciative laughter echoing between them.  
He flushed, whenever he was manhandled, whenever he was praised for his sweet mouth and his narrow hips.

“Perfect for me” Mizoguchi always said, as if Akira was his, and his only. By the coins he tossed and the soft caresses that Akira knew meant to be controlling.

Yet he shivered, opening his legs easily for the man, his cock rising and hardening under quick, hard strokes, straddling powerful thighs and hiding his face to pant into Mizoguchi’s neck when fingers probed at him, rich and scented oil making his head and thoughts swirl against his eyelids.

But he could not always pretend. He could not always control himself and the shadows of his mind. When Mizoguchi would snarl, biting harder at his skin; above the collar of his plain robes, against his thighs and arms. Marking him until he whined, grip hard against his crippled arm, nug against his back until it hurt, until Akira broke under the man’s will, hiding from him.

It hurt. Akira could not feel many things in the torn muscles and cramped fingers, but he knew. He knew it showed how damaged he was, the chewed toy of the King he had become and Akira hurt. Hurt until he forgot the sex entering him, thrusting quick and rough inside of him as his own sex was pressed hard against silks and steel.

So Akira thought, Akira dreamed. He dreamed of a smaller sex inside of him, of kinder, loving thrusts against his buttocks until he moaned truly. Of his friend, kissing his skin, kissing his cheeks and everywhere until Akira weeped in his arms, crippled limbs around broad shoulders and tanned skin and spiked hair.

He dreamed until he could only whisper a name against the Commander’s skin, never felt, never heard above his moans, above the ragged breaths of the older man and the tightening of his thighs under Akira’s weight.

Yuutarou

But him too was ruined. By the King, by their small, beloved Prince, a chewed toy thrown away far down South and Akira swore again under the Stranger’s eyes to end them all. To end them and their game, as he felt come against his thighs, “good, sweet little boy” against his skin.

Yet. Yet Akira only blushed, thanking the Lord Commander for the praises, accepting coins with a flush burning his skin, laughing sweetly at any lewd jokes and accepting a last rough kiss and a hand squeezing his ass. 

He could wait. He could wait in the shadows wrapped around him as arms he could not feel anymore.


	3. Chapter 3

There is only silence in the room. Silence, and the soft sound of papers being ruffled around as Akira looks at every letters thrown onto the desk. He had been told to wait here by a servant, with a sneer and side comment as he was left to do as he pleased in the commander’s office. Akira knew that Mizoguchi would not be there for a while, and there was no one else to stop him from looking around, from discovering any of Mizoguchi’s secrets.

 

He was ever so comfortable, draping himself over the leather bound chair of the office, reading the letters with a smile of his own, so relaxed and unwind that Akira did not startle when the door opened without a knock, revealing Mizoguchi himself striding in the room to reach him. 

 

And Akira did not stop reading, not even when he felt heavy hands parting his legs for Mizoguchi to loom over him, his breath ghosting against the crown of his head. 

 

“What are you doing, my needy boy?” he hears him say and Akira does not have to look up to hear the smirk in the man’s voice. He does not answer the man quickly, continuing to pursue the letters with keen eyes and the most devious smile on his lips. Who knew lords could be such telltales?

 

“I’m unearthing secrets.” he finally answers as quietly as usual, letting Mizoguchi bring the letter back to the desk and Akira looks up. He had to admit, the Commander was an handsome man and here, with him between his legs as he was sitting in his very chair, Akira feels powerful and greedy. “It would be a shame for me to tell of them to the kitchen boys, wouldn’t it” he adds as if in an afterthought, as if they were not already sharing the same sinful ideas as to what could bring Akira to silence.

 

“Such a shame indeed” Mizoguchi seems to purr, kissing Akira’s brow as he would a child as he smirks even more at the touch. “What would you have me do to earn your silence over such matters, you devious boy?” 

 

The words make Akira shiver, desire and satisfaction burning low in his belly as he thinks about what he could make the Commander do, if Mizoguchi’s words are true and earnest. So he tries, tries with the sweetest smile on his face, body already against Mizoguchi’s in a vain seduction.

 

“Pleasure me. Taste me.” he tells the Commander. Pleasure me, he thinks, and do not bother with your own pleasure.

 

If Akira was used to Mizoguchi manhandling him, aroused by the knowledge of it, he is surprised to see the man kneel between his legs, to hear the metal of Mizoguchi’s armour hit the stone in a loud sound and to see his head between his legs. 

 

“To taste you?” he questions, his mouth already against the thin fabric of Akira’s breeches, nibbling at them until Akira’s hips are revealed and Mizoguchi can bite at them more eagerly until a surprised moan was drawn off the boy. He questions again, as if displeased by the thought even if his fingers began to unlace the breeches, touching Akira’s hardening cock with a sure and strong hand until he could take him entirely in his mouth. 

“Everything for you, Akira.” Mizoguchi says again and Akira can only watch before feeling the hot mouth around his sex, Mizoguchi’s hands spreading his legs further apart until Akira hears fabric being torn as he is pushed better against the chair. 

 

It takes all of Akira’s will power not to moan eagerly, not to grab Mizoguchi’s hair and bring him down on his cock more quickly, more, more. He has never felt this. Akira knows how it is done, having had Mizoguchi’s cock in his mouth many times, and other men’s before this and he knows he is skilled at it.   
But to feel teeth graze his sex, to feel Mizoguchi’s tongue against his cock, tasting him, eating him out alive until Akira’s thighs were quivering and all strength was leaving him, is something entirely new for the boy. 

 

“Mizoguchi” he breathes out in a high whine, bucking his hips against the Commander’s mouth to feel more of it until the man’s hands grab his hips to keep him in place. 

 

“You want pleasure, don’t you?” the man says, his smile as devious as Akira’s moan as he speaks, his hot breath against the tip of Akira’s cock, making him moan again. “Let me give it to you, my greedy boy, and nothing else should matter to you but my mouth on your sweet cock.” 

 

Akira throws his head back in pleasure at the words, unable to look at the sight between his legs in fear he would spend himself too eagerly, too quickly. And he desires it to last for once, to feel more of Mizoguchi’s warmth and to have the man devour him until he had nothing else to spill anymore.    
And Mizoguchi gave it all to him, licking his sex eagerly and massaging his thighs, pressing his mouth always further until Akira felt his lips against the base of his cock, until he hears Mizoguchi hum around his sex and Akira wanted to cry out his pleasure, only able to whine and moan pitifully as he wants more, again and again. 

  
  


Akira thinks he has come too soon, too quickly as he spills himself down Mizoguchi’s throat, crying out his name as he digs his nails in the armrest not to grab at his face, not to keep him against his cock until Akira grows hard again and is ready to be touched once more. 

 

“Akira” Mizoguchi calls out softly and he shivers at the awe of the sound, at how sweetly he is being called and he lets Mizoguchi kiss him, the heavyweight of him against his body a grounding weight, sighing in their kiss, filthy with the taste of his own seed on Mizoguchi’s tongue but it never bothers him, only making Akira wants so more. “My sweet, filthy boy” the man says again, nibbling at Akira’s reddened lips as he is pliant in Mizoguchi’s arms, letting him do so as he pleases, pressing and thrusting slightly against Akira’s legs. 

 

“Take me to bed.” Akira mutters, panting out heavily and looking straight at the man. “Take me to your bed, and have me once more.” he hears Mizoguchi laugh breathlessly, words of wonder Akira cannot quite catch as his heart pounds heavily in his head, deafening him to everything else that is not his own pleasure, his own desire.

 

“I want to see your face” he says more harshly, more demanding and it is only then that Mizoguchi moves, grabbing him by the hips to carry him to his room, kissing Akira’s neck until he feels bruises against his skin he eagerly laps at. 

 

“Your desire is my command then.” he feels being mouthed against his collarbone as he is laid out on the bed, the fresh linens making his skin burn even more so as Akira looks at Mizoguchi. He looks, stares at the man undressing himself, the metal pieces thrown about in the room and Akira licks his lips at the sight of skin being revealed, the defined muscles of Mizoguchi’s body down to his hard cock, bigger and so hard and Akira already wants more, wants pleasure, everything the man can give him. 

 

Akira shivers feeling Mizoguchi against him once more, to be able to touch his skin as he is being kissed again, as Mizoguchi’s hands travel down his body, manhandling him as he sees fit and Akira shivers to the thought of it, pliant and needy under his touch. 

He closes his eyes when he feels his mouth against his cock, too soon, to sensitive but Mizoguchi doesn’t linger, only hardening Akira’s sex before sucking on his thighs, pushing them apart before finally licking at him, making Akira startle enough for the man to keep him still, a secure arm over his thighs as he pulls Akira closer to his face and keep him there, licking and mouthing at his hole until Akira begs for him to stop, already leaking, already so close to come again. 

 

“Be patient Akira, you’ll have everything” the man murmurs against the soft skin of Akira’s buttocks, his tongue back at eating him out, and Akira swears he can feel the smile against his skin. 

 

He is so thrown off, so aroused by the time Mizoguchi finally enters him that he can only sighs tiredly, shivering in pleasure and “finally” being uttered under his breath making Mizoguchi laugh as he kisses him, chastely as he thrusts slow and deep inside of him. 

 

Akira was used to him coming first, to have to finish off alone in his rooms, to Mizoguchi leaving as soon as his seed was inside Akira’s body. But now, now he feels the slow roll of the man’s hips, the murmured praises and compliments as Akira moves back slowly, seeking out more, seeking powerful trusts Mizoguchi is shy to give. Pleasure comes burning and continuously, making him moan lewdly, grabbing at the man’s shoulders heavily, nails breaking skin as Mizoguchi’s cock still inside of him, keeping Akira from coming again, just on the verge, trembling and pleading. 

 

“Look at you” he says and Akira opens his eyes to see him as flushed and feverish as he feels. “look at you, so beautiful and flushed, down to the tip of your pretty cock.”

 

Yet, Akira looks away as Mizoguchi takes his arm and kisses it, kissing the scars and broken fingers and Akira shivers from the muted feeling of it. He closes his eyes when the next thrusts is deeper, quicker and more violent and he loves it.  

 

Mizoguchi keeps him from coming twice, leaving hims breathless and red from exhaustion, his legs like cotton around the man’s hips, unable to anything but to cling to the man and begs for his release, begs for anything to happen.    
Akira cries out, deeply and high as he finally comes, Mizoguchi’s hand on his cock, stroking sweetly and him murmuring for him to spill himself, for him to spend in his hand, finally. 

 

Akira thinks he blacks out, waking again to see Mizoguchi still above him, caressing his thighs lovingly and Akira feels the cool press of wet cloth against his skin, against his cock and stomach, and the way Mizoguchi’s fingers probe at him until Akira feels seed against his thighs.

 

“So beautiful, my boy” the man says so reverently Akira looks away, tired and spent and he wishing for nothing more but warmth and sleep.   
  
It is only long after when Akira wakes up once more in a cold bed and to the sound of crackling fire that he realizes he had not thought of anyone else but Mizoguchi as they fucked, as he was being touched by the very man and Akira is haunted by the thought of it. 

  
  


He is the one who flees then, trying so hard not to melt into the kiss once again, trying so hard not to wish he was back in Mizoguchi’s bed and against his strong body. Not to nod at Mizoguchi’s suggestion to spend the night, not to feel Mizoguchi’s lap to be comfortable under his tired thighs.

  
Yet, when he touches himself that night, aroused to the memory of what happens, Akira does not know if he is angry at himself, or if he desires to be burnt even more by the Commander.


End file.
